ITCHY-BITCHY SPIED HER

Itchy-Bitchy Spied Her


I was out of shape and mentally low.

I knew what I had to do.

I didn't want to do it. I have always been able to make up excuses quicker than anyone.

Everything in my life seemed overwhelming.

I couldn't focus or concentrate.
I had no motivation.
I was becoming one with the couch.
I felt as soft as the couch.
I felt as big as the couch.

Acknowledging it brought me down even lower.

I knew what I had to do.

With every bit of strength I had, mental and physical, I found the playlist I used to like best, which also happened to be the shortest; twenty minutes, tops. My goal was to force myself to walk until the entire list was done.

I descended the cellar stairs, and worked my way over to our old treadmill. I took several gulps of water, to prevent "thirst" from being an excuse to quit. I hung my iPod in my makeshift clear hanging pouch, and got "in position".

I started slowly. As I hit play, I turned on the treadmill to the slowest walkable speed.  I held on with both hands while I closed my puffy, tired eyes, to concentrate on the music. The first song did not stimulate me or excite me as it used to.

I decided to sing-along, which goes to show how slowly I was walking. I sang at the top of my lungs, actually shouting-screaming out the words, in between sobs, I choked as tears flowed down my face and my throat.

Just minutes after I had started, I felt I couldn't go any further. I knew this is where I often gave up. I knew if I stayed just a little bit longer, I would get that second wind. I also knew if I pulled that plug I could get off the treadmill. I really wanted to stop.

I opened my eyes to see how many minutes I had gone. I hadn't turned on any lights, so reading the counter without my eyeglasses was impossible in that dark cellar.

As I was about to pull the plug, "I saw the light" of the rising sun stream in through the dirty window.  I continued to walk, due to a fascinating distraction which caught my eye.

I noticed a tiny, graceful spider dropping down, then slightly back up,  then down again, as it was delicately spinning a web. Meanwhile, a huge, ugly bug of some sort was already caught and struggling vigorously to get free.

The web wasn't old. It was made up of a couple of silky strands. Under it, there were just a few droppings. I decided they must have been recent, because they were dust free.

As I walked, I was intrigued with both the spider and it's victim. I was feeling almost ashamed, of how my life seemed so easy compared to theirs. The spider was steadily and rhythmically working without hesitation, while it's prey was fighting vehemently for its life.

Had I knocked the web down, the spider probably would have started over...Unless I crushed the spider, which I wouldn't do because I feel like spiders help keep the population of "bad bugs" down.

After watching the spider and the struggling bug for quite a while, I stopped my treadmill to go upstairs. They both continued at what they had to do.

Neither of them had stopped working on their way of surviving life on my account. I doubt they even noticed me. But I noticed them.

I often think about them, when I start to become overwhelmed by life.


That was a few months ago.


The web is still there.  Since that first time, I haven't seen a spider working as diligently on that web.

The evidence of progress is there, though. The web has grown more elaborate, resembling a fine net curtain, gracefully hung, flowing in front of the window.

There are many more droppings now. Occasionally, I see a spider. I know nothing about the lifespan of spiders. Could it possibly be a descendant of the original one I observed?

On stormy or frigid days, I often decide to use my treadmill. I still walk, but at a much faster pace, to a longer, peppier play list.

Each time I use it, but especially on the days I really don't want to, I hope for the rays of the rising sun to break through my dark gloomy mood and shine through the cellar window.

But, if that doesn't happen, I still have that ever changing web to remind me that even if I am stuck & struggling, life continues to go on all around me.

I just have to open my eyes.